


Belly Laugh

by combat_jorts



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Body Dysphoria, Body Worship, Chubby Sylvain, Dadbod Sylvain, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Hurt and comfort, I love that tag, M/M, Porn With Plot, Post canon, Smut, Thickvain, Unreliable Narrator, Whump, felix and Sylvain are dilfs, felix loves it, self hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24128737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combat_jorts/pseuds/combat_jorts
Summary: “And you, Sylvain,” Dimitri began with a soft smile, and the saccharine tone in his voice made Sylvain’s stomach drop out with dread, “I’m certainly glad to see that you’ve taken advantage of peacetime.”“Right,” Sylvain began with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “you know me; I didn’t train when I was supposed to, so I sure as hell won’t when I don’t need to.”As Dimitri and Dedue began to titter quietly, Sylvain joined in with a laugh that was perhaps a bit more dry than he meant it. He could feel Felix’s eyes on him, unwavering.~~~Dimitri and Dedue pay Felix and Sylvain a visit years after the war. Sylvain grows increasingly uncomfortable with his weight. Felix endeavors to fix it.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 12
Kudos: 113
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	Belly Laugh

**Author's Note:**

> For the FE3H kink meme!!  
> Prompt: After the war, Sylvain trains less—he never liked it much, anyway. Less exercise and an aging metabolism adds up, to Sylvain's begrudging acceptance and his partner's deep delight. Not looking for massive crazy WG or humiliation (though, chase your bliss)—just any partner thoroughly appreciating thicker, older, dad-bod-ier Sylvain. 
> 
> \+ Bonus points for Sylvain with some-to-lots of body hair.  
> \+ Any ship will do, but I'm fondest of Sylvain with Felix, Dimitri, Mercie, Bernie, or Dedue!  
> \+ Some light well-intentioned but awkward teasing from his shredded friends for letting himself go is a plus!
> 
> I hope I did it justice!! It’s a little angsty oop
> 
> TW for body dysphoria and self deprecating thoughts

“They’re here.”

Sylvain peered out the window as Felix announced the arrival of two of their oldest friends, a sole carriage bearing no identifying characteristics other than the ornateness of its design making its way through the snow of Gautier territory. “Huh. They’re early.”

“Did you expect anything less from them?” Felix volleyed back from the great room, ambling into the kitchen to join Sylvain. His hair was fashioned into a long, dark braid that fell to the small of his back. He rarely fixed his hair so, insisting that it was a waste of his time regardless of the occasion, but it seemed he cared more about their company than he let on. “It isn’t as if they have anything better to do than to arrive awkwardly early to every occasion.”

Sylvain laughed, shaking his head and bending to press a kiss to Felix’s hairline. A few gray hairs smattered Felix’s hair scarcely, woven with care into his braid like silver thread. “I think the  _ king _ and his advisor probably have a whole lot more to do than come early to our dinner, but okay. I think you’re just scrabbling for something to be bitter about.”

Felix huffed indignantly, though he leaned into Sylvain’s touch, returning his husband’s kiss with one of his own. It made Sylvain’s heart beat faster even after so many years. It wasn’t as if Sylvain had expected Felix to eventually fall out of love— that wasn’t it at all. Probably. It was just that receiving a piece of genuine emotion from Felix exactly like the day they’d confessed to each other even after years and years was comforting, especially since Sylvain had changed a lot since the war. A  _ lot _ . First of all, he was less self destructive. That meant he was less uptight about his appearance, the way he carried himself, etc. He still cared about what others thought of him— he always would— but he knew what it was like to love and be loved, not in spite of himself, but because of it, and he’d grown comfortable with himself as a result. 

So what would follow naturally, combined with the fact that he had no need to keep the shape of a soldier at war, was putting on a bit of winter weight (and by winter weight, he meant non-seasonal, permanent weight). It showed on his arms and thighs, growing a bit wider in circumference, and in the filling-out of his chest and belly so that his old shirts and tunics stretched taut over them. He now had love handles that sat on his hips where dense muscle used to exist (it was still there— just hidden). Instead of a soldier or chiseled statue, he appeared more like… a lumberjack. Nothing wrong with lumberjacks, right? All in all, he was just as strong as he used to be, a bit less agile, a good deal softer, and a whole lot happier. 

Or so he thought.

It was complicated— he was happier, yes, and that happiness caused him to gain weight, but a negative feedback loop ensued after that. He’d feel more comfortable with himself, he’d gain weight, he’d look in the mirror, and then he’d feel… a little less happy. Old thoughts echoed insistently in his mind, telling him he was worthless and that anyone would be embarrassed to see him like that. He’d get over it after a little while and a few kisses from Felix, and then the cycle would start over. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone; the only person he ever saw on a daily basis anymore was Felix, but… that was also an issue in itself. Felix never indicated that he noticed, but he had to, right? Sylvain now was much different than the Sylvain Felix confessed to. He didn’t care to think about that much, so he packed that thought away neatly and pushed it back where it came from (where he’d inevitably pull it back out again like an old sweater some other day). 

The main issue at hand was the fact that neither Dimitri nor Dedue had seen either of them in person since the war and the ceremonies thereafter. Dimitri and Dedue’s duties kept them busy nearly at all times, and both Sylvain and Felix worked a considerable amount during the year. There was simply a minuscule chance that all of them would be free all at once to be able to visit like old friends again. And it just so happened that said chance would happen now, when Sylvain was arguably at his most vulnerable. So when Felix announced that their old friends had arrived and then came to join him in the kitchen, he’d had to hide the tremor in his hands.

“You go answer the door. I’ll keep this stirring,” said Felix, gently taking the spoon from Sylvain’s hand and nudging him toward the door with a hand on his lower back. Sylvain  _ really _ wasn’t a fan of that idea for a number of reasons, and when he turned back to Felix after a few begrudging steps toward the door, he tried not to look too desperately pleading. 

“You haven’t seen them in years, either. Let’s just do it together. It would be more polite that way, right? Besides, the food won’t burst into flames if we leave it to simmer for five minutes.” This was code for  _ I’d feel more comfortable with you at my side so all attention hopefully won’t be on me. _

Felix took one look at the food on the stovetop and sighed, then set his utensil down and joined Sylvain. “Fine. I guess you’re right,” he grumped. By the tense way he carried himself and the way his hands balled into white-knuckled fists at his side, it seemed to Sylvain that Felix was—

“Nervous?” the red haired man asked softly. Felix’s lip curled, his nose scrunching, and he was opening his mouth no doubt to spit a sharp retort when Sylvain took his hand, laced their fingers together, and softly continued, “Me, too.”

The iron fox door knocker on the great, wooden doors of the Gautier manor sounded once, twice, thrice, echoing through the foyer and the living room. Taking a deep breath, butterflies flitted nervously in Sylvain’s belly as he took a step forward and opened the doors.

On the other side stood Dimitri, wrapped in a discreet black cloak with an eyepatch white as the snow on the stone steps below his feet, and Dedue, hair tied in a neat ponytail and face wrapped snugly in a large beaded scarf. Sylvain grinned, watching as Dimitri shrugged off his hood and beamed right back. However, there was a minuscule change in Dimitri’s expression as soon as the King’s eye had landed upon Sylvain that he would have missed had he not been looking. His lone eye widened fractionally, his smile faltering— unless Sylvain was mistaken, the look that replaced the delight on his old friend’s face was… shock. Sylvain’s heart twinged.

“Sylvain! Felix! Oh, it has been  _ far _ too long, my old friends,” Dimitri nearly wept with joy, pulling Felix in for a squeeze that was no doubt bone-crushing, and then Sylvain. The King held Sylvain at arm’s length, his blue eye watery with unshed tears, and then turned to Felix to hold both of his hands between his own. It seemed Dimitri really hadn’t changed, much to Sylvain’s chagrin. Of course he was happy that his old friend was still as sweet as ever (like a big, dumb puppy, he remembered Felix saying) but Dimitri was also just as fit as he was right out of the war. Perhaps he wasn’t malnourished anymore, as he was when he lost himself, but he felt firm and muscular against Sylvain during their brief embrace. 

Dedue and Felix settled for a firm handshake and an exchange of smiles and hellos (neither had really been close), and then Dedue brought Sylvain in for a gentle hug lasting only a second or two. “It truly is lovely to see you both,” Dedue said softly.

“Please— come in,” Sylvain invited, stepping aside for their friends.

“I thought you’d never ask— Why did we have to have formalities on the porch in the damned cold?” Felix griped, stepping aside and scrubbing his hands up and down his arms as everyone else burst into warm laughter.

Sylvain closed the doors and Felix ushered their company into the great room, pushing them down onto the couches and pouring them warm tea Sylvain had prepared minutes earlier. The red haired man peered into the kitchen at the food on the stove and made his way to Felix’s side once he deemed it alright to simmer.

“It feels a little like a dream, doesn’t it? All of us being in one room together again. I’d almost believe we’d stepped back in time if we all didn’t appear so different,” Dimitri began warmly. Sylvain’s gaze flicked to Felix, noting the way he’d merely raised a brow.

“You don’t look much different,” Felix said flatly. “Except it seems you get your beard trimmed by the same person as your father.”

“It’s true,” Dedue said mildly, his lips quirking into the smallest of smiles. “You’ve begun to resemble your father.”

Dimitri blinked, then erupted into a bout of laughter that made his broad shoulders shake. Sylvain couldn’t help but think of his own belly-laugh. It  _ definitely  _ didn’t look like that when he did it. 

“Oh, you haven’t changed a bit, Felix. I thought perhaps you’d soften up with Sylvain at your side.”

“He has. He just won’t show it because he’s stubborn,” Sylvain interjected with a grin, and the resulting scowl on Felix’s face was oh so worth it.

“And you, Sylvain,” Dimitri began with a soft smile, and the saccharine tone in his voice made Sylvain’s stomach drop out with dread, “I’m certainly glad to see that you’ve taken advantage of peacetime.”

Sylvain could feel all eyes on him. His heart constricted and it felt a little hard to breathe. How was he supposed to respond? First, Dimitri appeared  _ visibly shocked _ by his appearance, and now he blatantly referred to his weight? Sylvain supposed he deserved it. He was beginning to feel ill. 

“Right,” Sylvain began with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “you know me; I didn’t train when I was supposed to, so I sure as hell won’t when I don’t need to.”

As Dimitri and Dedue began to titter quietly, Sylvain joined in with a laugh that was perhaps a bit more dry than he meant it. He could feel Felix’s eyes on him, unwavering. 

“I actually left our food simmering in the kitchen— I should go check on it. I’ll be right back,” he announced before spinning on his heel and beginning to make his way to the kitchen. He was probably just overthinking it, right? He’d never known Dimitri to purposefully harm with his words. It was probably an unfortunate slip of the tongue. Right..? In any case, Sylvain needed time to himself.

“Allow me to help,” Dedue offered, standing from the couch and stepping around Dimitri to join Sylvain. “It would be unfair to leave all the work to you and Felix.”

“Oh, Dedue, you’re our guest,” Sylvain replied with a smile and a shake of his head. “I’ve got this. Really.”

“At least allow me to supervise the seasoning. If I remember correctly from our kitchen duty, you used salt rather liberally. Only salt.”

Sylvain couldn’t help but let out a genuine guffaw of laughter. Dedue was a kind soul— it wouldn’t hurt to have his company. Hell, it might even be cathartic. “Go for it,” he replied warmly. “I think we’ll all thank you.”

And so Sylvain and Dedue bustled around the kitchen, stirring and seasoning and taste-testing until they both deemed the entree actually delicious. All the while they chatted, but every once in a while Sylvain found his attention wandering, particularly to Dedue’s form. He was still just as built as he was during the war, if not even broader. Sylvain couldn’t help but feel a twinge of shame; he felt guilty for appraising his friend, but it was only natural after feeling so inadequate. 

“I had no idea Felix could cook,” Dedue began conversationally as they waited for their dinner to cook. The statement was confusing to Sylvain for a number of reasons— first of all, he couldn’t figure out where it came from, and second of all,  _ he _ was the one cooking. 

“Er… He can’t?” Sylvain replied, furrowing his brow. 

“Ah, I assume must have gained culinary expertise since the war.”

“I… guess? I’m not really that good. I mean, you’ve witnessed it yourself. Why..?”

Some sort of realization flashes in Dedue’s eyes, and the other man’s face blooms into subtle color. “I-I apologize for my assumption. I had thought… Ah, forgive me.” 

_ Huh? _ Sylvain was utterly stumped. It wasn’t like Dedue to get flustered unless… he thought he’d overstepped his bounds and offended someone. Ah. So he’d taken one look at Sylvain, assumed Felix was a good cook and had… fattened him up. Great. That made Sylvain feel  _ lovely _ . 

“I think I can take over from here. It’s almost done anyway. You should go join Dimitri and Felix,” Sylvain said softly, unable to meet Dedue’s gaze. He felt physically sick to his stomach. Staring at the pot on the stove, he noted the warped reflection of himself in the metal and swallowed thickly. He felt  _ disgusting _ . Everyone knew; everyone noticed how he’d let himself go. He wondered what they thought of him. Obviously they were shocked and disgusted, but what else?  _ Goddess _ he was sick and tired of worrying about his body— he wished people could see his achievements like they saw the way his chest pressed against his shirt. He bit down on his lip hard enough to sting, staring down at their dinner with absolutely no appetite. 

A soft touch to the small of his back started him enough to make him jump, snapping out of his reverie and turning to see Felix, a furrow between his brow that held not anger, but concern. “Felix,” he breathed. “It— It’s pretty much ready if you… if you wanna tell them to go sit down.”

Felix’s gaze was unreadable, but a few emotions Sylvain didn’t catch flitted within it for a few short moments. “I will. I came to check on you. You’ve been quiet in here. And you looked rather concentrated on a piece of beef you’ve already cooked the hell out of.” He cocked a brow. 

It was both comforting and extremely disconcerting that Felix could read him like an open book, even when he erected his protective walls all over again. His walls were never Felix-proof. “I’m fine. I mean, it’s just me in here. Would you rather I talk to myself? That would be a great impression on Dimitri and Dedue.” He cracked a wry smile, forcing it to meet his eyes artificially. Felix’s eyes tracked his every movement.

“You  _ do _ talk to yourself. It’s endearing. And strange.” Felix straightened, patting Sylvain’s back. “I’ll tell them it’s ready. Let me know if you need help.” Sylvain felt Felix’s hand track down, down, until his palm lay on his ass. Sylvain’s breath hitched, his stomach plummeting as Felix gave his ass a squeeze.  _ Felix knew. Felix knew. He had to know. He noticed. He knows that I lost myself. He’s disgusted. He was never that physical before— when did he ever touch me like that out of the blue? He’s just doing it to be nice. He pities me. I’m not good enough for him. He’s disappointed. _ Sylvain felt like he needed to throw up. By the time he came back to himself enough to notice his surroundings, Felix was gone. 

He slipped back into a daze as he plated the food, balancing dishes on his arms ( _ he couldn’t do that before _ , he thought with disgust), and set every plate at each place on the dining room table. Dimitri and Dedue probably thanked him, but he didn’t hear it. He sat down beside Felix with his own plate, staring down at it with unseeing eyes, and was dimly aware of Dedue closing his eyes to pray and Felix’s eyes trained on him once more. Sylvain wanted to hide. 

He so desperately wanted to be happy like this. He  _ did _ . He was, at some point. But he couldn’t. It wasn’t meant to be. The only thing anyone would ever see him for was his body. It didn’t matter what he did or who he was, who he loved or who he cherished. It didn’t matter if he was… like this. People would always judge. People would always look exactly like Dimitri when they see him— shocked, and not in a good way. And the worst part is that they were probably right. He deserved it. 

He wasn’t hungry. He poked at his food with a fork, and reminding himself of the orphans back at Garreg Mach who only had a meal a few times a week, if that, didn’t make him feel any more able to force down a bite of food. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to keep it down if he did. His gaze flicked up, meeting Felix’s, and his heart constricted in his chest. The look on Felix’s face was curious, concerned, maybe confused. Sylvain couldn’t focus enough to tell. 

“Are you alright?” Felix asked quietly, leaning toward Sylvain.

Sylvain nodded automatically, smiling. It didn’t feel real; like he’d plastered it on. It felt all too familiar. It made him feel sick. “Just waiting for it to cool.”

Felix’s frown deepened. Sylvain swallowed thickly, turning back toward his food. He had no idea how much time had passed, but Dimitri was halfway through his plate, and Felix had made a considerable dent in his own. His food was probably cold by now. His husband reached a hand over, giving his bicep a gentle squeeze that perhaps was supposed to be reassuring. It made Sylvain feel so much worse; he felt the way his arm gave under Felix’s fingertips. 

He wished he could disappear. How selfish was it to wish your friends, that you haven’t seen in years and probably won’t see again in another few, were gone?

~~~~~~~~~~

The door clicked shut, and Felix shivered in the lingering cold that had crept inside while he ushered their guests out. Felix made sure they got their fill of food and wine as Sylvain seemed down for the count, and much to his surprise (and delight), their guests insisted on making their way back to Fhirdiad under the cover of nightfall (“It’s safer that way,” Dimitri insisted).

As Felix secured their doors, he yawned and made his way down the hall to his and Sylvain’s bedroom. He knew his husband had retired there pretty quickly after Dimitri and Dedue made their exit, but Felix didn’t see him anywhere in the flickering candlelight illuminating their bedroom. One glance across the room offered Felix a view of light winking underneath their bathroom door. Perhaps Sylvain was just getting ready for bed. 

As Felix began to do the same, he reflected on the events of the night. As time went on, Sylvain acted more and more… artificial. He barely picked at his food, and he appeared rather pale… the rational part of Felix’s mind told him that Sylvain was probably coming down with a simple cold and was attempting to hold it together for their guests. The fact that he insisted upon those dead-eyed smiles that fooled most concerned Felix, however. If he was feeling ill, he would have said so and excused himself. 

Felix was pulling on a nightshirt when the bathroom door creaked open. He watched as Sylvain put out the light spell hovering above his palm, noting the way he only donned his smallclothes. Felix licked his lips unconsciously, eyes trailing down Sylvain’s body in appreciation. A smattering of ginger curls lay on his chest, matching a lovely trail of hair that began just under his navel and extended tantalizingly below the hem of his smallclothes. Felix loved to run his hands through it— Sylvain had long since thrown away the steel barber’s blade he’d used to clean-shave nearly his entire body when they were younger. Felix was endlessly glad, though he was attracted to Sylvain in any form. 

As Sylvain stepped closer, Felix could appreciate the rest of Sylvain’s form. He openly admired Sylvain’s broad chest, remembering the way his tits felt as they gave from softness to slight muscle below his palms and his lips like muscle memory. The slight softness of his belly was perfect to cuddle with, as was his chest, and he loved the way he could get a peek of it when Sylvain stretched and his shirt rode up. His thighs were plush, like the softness on his hips. His ass filled out his pants and— Felix felt like a rubber band about to snap. He needed Sylvain. 

“Come here,” he said softly, approaching Sylvain and taking one hand— the one with his wedding ring— in his own. He leaned forward and captured Sylvain’s lips in a soft kiss, delighted when Sylvain kissed back, and his other hand wandered to Sylvain’s hip. “Come to bed with me,” he murmured.

“Felix?” Sylvain said softly, and something about his tone was… off. “Can we… maybe do it tomorrow? I’m a little tired from all the excitement today.”

Huh. Felix would respect Sylvain’s wishes, of course, but… something was wrong. His intuition was practically screaming at him that something was wrong. His eyes roved Sylvain’s face, noting tension around his eyes, his smile tight. “Alright. Are you alright?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I’m just tired.” Sylvain then grinned, which was an alarming change of pace. “I mean, I bet I could scrounge up some energy if you’re  _ really _ insistent. Only if we blow out the candles, though. I’ve got a little bit of a headache, and I can feel you better then. Y’know, sensory deprivation and all that.” Sylvain winked, loosening his hand from Felix’s grip and stepping away from the hand on his hip in favor of cupping Felix’s jaw and bringing him in for a kiss.

“I told you we don’t have to,” Felix insisted, his frown deepening as he pulled away from Sylvain’s lips. “You’re acting strange. Tell me what’s going on; I want to help.”

“Nothing, babe.” Sylvain winked once more. He rarely called Felix  _ babe _ . What the hell was going on? “It’s fine. “I can tell you want me. I want you too. C’mon— we’ve had a long day. I’ll treat you right.” And then Felix was getting pulled in once more, their lips meeting in a slow, languid kiss. Felix nearly melted into it until he remembered that Sylvain was playing the world’s longest and most obvious game of Avoid the Subject. Sylvain’s fingers were fumbling at the buttons of his nightshirt, opening them deftly despite the tremor in his hands.  _ Tremor _ . His hands were trembling. Sylvain was pushing Felix’s nightshirt away, off his arms until it crumpled to the floor in an unceremonious heap and left Felix bare.

Felix planted his hands on Sylvain’s chest and  _ shoved _ , breaking their kiss sending his husband stumbling back a step or two. “ _ Sylvain _ ,” he hissed, exasperated. Sylvain’s eyes went wide. “Stop and  _ listen to me _ .”

Sylvain did.

“What’s going on? You’ve been acting strange all evening. It started when Dimitri and Dedue arrived. Did they say something?” Felix couldn't imagine either of them offending Sylvain in some way, but… it was possible. Sylvain was very sensitive to critique, even if it wasn’t a purposeful critique. Felix frowned as Sylvain averted his gaze.

“So they did.”

“It’s really not important,” Sylvain protested weakly. “I know they didn’t mean it. I’ll get over it. It’s okay.”

“Sylvain—“

“G-Go ahead and get tucked in, okay? I need… I need to wash my face.”

Sylvain spun on his heel to rush to the bathroom, but Felix’s reflexes kicked in fast enough to catch Sylvain’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks. “Don’t run from this. I want to help you.”

When Sylvain turned, Felix noted the way his breathing had picked up, his brows furrowed and his teeth dragging over his lip. “I can’t,” he said weakly. He was panicking; Felix knew his tells.

“Lay here and breathe with me. You can… wash your face later. Come on, love.”

The affectionate pet name got Sylvain’s legs working as Felix tugged him to the bed, ignoring the fact that he was now completely nude, his hair loose from its braid and hanging around his body like a dark curtain. “Alright, come on. Come here,” Felix urged, wrapping his arms around Sylvain as the other sidled up to his side and attempted to control his breathing. Felix talked to him softly all the while, petting his hair as he calmed down enough to speak.

“I’m sorry,” Sylvain whispered, followed by a shaky breath and then a soft sob. “I’m sorry…”

“Why? You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Felix’s anxiety spiked. He sat up, pushing ginger curls from Sylvain’s face. He looked… miserable. Brown eyes met his own, and Felix blinked to make sure the fear in them wasn’t just a trick of the light.  _ What happened to him? _

“I want— I just want to be enough for you.”

Felix hadn’t seen Sylvain this broken in a decade or more. Frankly, it scared the shit out of him and he needed to know what the fuck brought it on so that he could protect Sylvain from it for the rest of his days. He’d never been good at this kind of thing, but he sure as hell was going to give Sylvain the support he needed. His eyes caught on the glint of the wedding band on Sylvain’s finger, and it was as if a switch was turned on in his head.

Felix lifted his hand, pointing to his own silver wedding band. “What is this?” he asked simply. The question seemed to startle Sylvain enough that his tears briefly stopped falling.

“Your… wedding ring..?”

“Right. I have this because I love you more than anything else in the world. And I want you to feel like you can confide in me. You can rely on me. No matter how shit my advice is, I’m here for you. Let me support you. I can’t do it until you let me.”

“I’m tired of… being unable to escape my worth being equated to my physical appearance. I hate it, Felix. I hate the way I look. I  _ hate _ it,” Sylvain blurted, his voice breaking. “Ever since I was a kid, I didn’t have anything going for me except my looks and my crest. No one cared about how I did in school, or… or what my favorite color is, or any of that shit.” He scrubbed a hand down his face, smearing his tears, and Felix bit down hard on his lip, his heart fracturing.

“I thought that if I was at least attractive, I was safe. I had that going for me. I could… hide from the ridicule. I could do whatever the hell I wanted and no one would stop me, because I was an asshole, but at least I was an attractive asshole. No one would look down on me as much, y’know? But, fuck,” Sylvain continued, curling further into himself, his arms wrapped tightly around his torso. “I could get perfect scores on tests without trying, and help end a fucking war, bring a kingdom back together, end a rebellion, but people still see my weight before my achievements. They’d rather comment on how I’m bigger than I used to be. They’re disappointed by  _ that _ and… they don’t even care about what I’ve done right. No one  _ cares _ about that, Felix, and I hate it… I can’t do anything right because I’ve gained some fucking weight.”

Felix was dumbfounded. That's what Sylvain was worried about all night? Thinking of his husband stewing about how much he hated his body for  _ hours  _ made Felix feel ill. It all made sense— Dimitri’s comment at the door and Sylvain’s reaction finally clicked. _ Shit. _ “Sylvain… Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he said softly, his eyes dancing away. Sylvain was very much  _ not _ okay and Felix was too dense to see it. 

“I know this probably means shit, but… You’re still the Sylvain I fell in love with. And,  _ fuck _ , I might even love you more now simply because I know you’re more  _ you _ now than you ever were back then. When you’re happy, I’m happy, even if I don’t show it. Fuck everyone that ever made you doubt yourself.  _ Fuck _ them. They don’t matter. And I know it’ll take you some time to come to terms with yourself again, but… I want to show you every single part I love about you. Will you let me?”

Sylvain’s pretty brown eyes were wide and red-rimmed. Felix would burn down the whole kingdom to see him smile. Finally, his husband nodded. “Yes, please,” he said softly. 

Felix nodded right back.

“I’ll start with your face. You’ve gotten a handsome beard— it feels nice against my fingers and my lips. It makes you look older. More mature.” He punctuates this with a languid kiss, scrubbing his fingers through wiry ginger hairs. pulling away to focus on the next part. 

“Your arms are perfect,” he began, pressing a kiss to the softest part of Sylvain’s bicep. His arms were scarred from lighting magic and blows from numerous weapons. Upon closer inspection, Felix could see the lightest freckles from the sun dotting his skin. His forearms were covered in thin red hairs that shone like fire in the candlelight. “You’ve always been so strong. You might even be stronger than me now,” he added with the smallest of wry smirks, “but these arms make me feel wanted. Safe. Secure. When you hold me, they feel  _ right _ . And it helps that they’re big enough to hold me down. To pin my hips or my wrists so you can fuck me just how you like.” Sylvain shivered at that, sucking in a little breath. Felix smirked against his skin.

“Your chest… I could fall asleep on it listening to your heartbeat.” His hands drifted down to Sylvain’s chest, admiring it with half-lidded eyes. “Or I could squeeze your tits in each hand and give them some well deserved attention. That’s something you like, isn’t it.” It was more of a statement than a question he uttered as he ran a hand lovingly over each pec, now covered in a sweet layer of softness that was addicting to squeeze. It made them look so tantalizing that Felix couldn’t get enough.

Sylvain nodded in agreement to said statement, eyes going heavy-lidded. Felix smiled slowly, lavisciously. “Good. And your nipples have always been so sensitive. It only takes a little attention to get them hard. I love how soft your tits have gotten, Sylvain. They drive me crazy...”

“Touch them,” Sylvain whispered, “please, Felix…” His husband had begun to squirm a bit, his breath hitching and his teeth dragging over his lower lip. In the candlelight, Felix could see color blooming on his cheeks. 

With that, Felix obligingly lowered his mouth to one nipple, kneading the other side of Sylvain’s chest with one hand. He swirled his tongue around the sensitive nub, grazing it with his teeth and sucking ever so slightly. “I’ve thought about fucking them; you pushing them against my cock. Would you like that?” Sylvain whined, staring down at the sight of Felix laving his tits with attention, and nodded. He drew his head up and moved to the other nipple, lapping and sucking until Sylvain was gasping and arching into his touch. “So needy and desperate. Getting softer has only made them more sensitive, hm?”

Sylvain nodded in agreement, pursing his lips and shifting his hips.

Felix shifted his attention to Sylvain’s abdomen, arguably one of the most adorable parts of him along with one of the parts that held his attention the most. “Your belly is so soft and sensitive,” he began, running a hand over each side of it and dragging his blunt nails gently along the skin. Sylvain gasped at the sensation, and Felix ran his thumbs soothingly over the soft chub. “Again, it’s perfect for cuddles, but sometimes I’d rather thrust my cock against it until I come.”

“ _ Felix _ !”

“I could come from that alone. And I love it when you stretch and your shirt rides up… I can see this little trail right here.” Felix dragged a finger through the hair in question, licking his lips at the sight of the growing bulge in Sylvain’s smallclothes. Felix was already half hard himself. He made his way down Sylvain’s body to press a kiss to his tummy, right above his navel. “Because I know exactly where it leads. But we’ll get there.”

Felix’s hands skirted to Sylvain’s hips, petting over the soft flesh there. His stretch marks felt like soft grooves beneath Felix’s fingertips. “Your lovehandles are perfect for holding when I fuck you. So soft. They make your hips look great. When they peek above your pants, I want to put my hands on them.” He gave Sylvain’s soft hips a squeeze before his hands drifted down past Sylvain’s ass and to the soft and supple skin of his thighs. 

They, too, were covered in a thin layer of ginger hair, but the soft skin of the inside of his thighs was hairless and freckled. Silver stretch marks ran along the skin like little streams. “Your thighs are hypnotizing. So fucking soft, and they fill out your pants just right.” He punctuates this with a squeeze to each thigh, soothing it with a pat. “I can’t help but stare. Sometimes I wonder what it would feel like to fuck right between them. And I love when you close them around my head when I suck you off.”

“Fuck, Fe, I’d let you do anything you wanted…”

“I know you would. And then your ass… it’s so fucking hot. Fills out your pants, too. I always want to give it a squeeze. I can’t keep my hands off of it. Off of  _ you _ , Sylvain.” He pulled away to look at Sylvain seriously, though his own cheeks were no doubt stained red with want. “I love you like this. Every single part of you is so fucking attractive. And I love every part of you because it’s you. It’s  _ you _ .”

Sylvain seemed caught between emotion and arousal, biting his lip and parting his lips wantonly though his eyes seemed to brim with tears once more. “I believe you,” his husband said softly, and Felix cupped his face in both hands, running his thumbs along Sylvain’s cheekbones. Sylvain leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and letting a single tear escape down his face. Felix kissed it away.

“Good. Would you like to continue? Would you let me touch you?” Felix couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this gentle and patient with his husband; it wasn’t as if he was prickly all the time, but this sort of behavior wasn’t in his nature. But he knew Sylvain needed gentle patience, and Felix would give him anything.

Sylvain took a shuddering breath and nodded once more. “Only you could make me horny and sappy all at once. I really love you,” he laughed out breathlessly, his big, strong arms wrapping around Felix and pulling him into his lap for an embrace. Felix melted against his husband, closing his eyes as he savored the feeling and patted the other man’s back. 

“I love you, too. And your dick is poking my ass, so I think we should take care of that.”

Sylvain began to laugh once more, pulling away slowly so he could scrub at his eyes. “Yes, please,” he hummed.

Felix remained perched in Sylvain’s lap, only maneuvering enough so that he could get at Sylvain’s smallclothes to toss the offending article into the floor. 

“Let me help,” Sylvain offered, his voice dipping low as he placed one big hand on Felix’s lower back and lifted himself up onto his knees, supporting Felix as he shed the only article of clothing keeping them apart. While Felix prided himself on his own strength and independence, a little show of strength from Sylvain in the form of  _ completely manhandling him _ was… well, hot as hell. As Felix was settled gently back in Sylvain’s lap, he eyed the other hungrily, reaching between them to finally touch his husband the way he wanted. His cock was flushed and bobbed heavily against his stomach. Felix wrapped deft fingers around it and pumped a few times, earning himself a groan.

“Mmh, Fe,” Sylvain sighed. “Feels good…”

“Yeah?” Felix thumbed over the pink head, smearing precum from his slit. “Do we have oil?”

Sylvain blinked. “Oh. Did you want to..? I mean, neither of us have really prepared—“

“It’ll make it easier to stroke you off,” Felix said bluntly. “You can fuck into my hand that way.”

“Oh!” Sylvain grinned, suddenly very invested. “Yeah, hold on, let me…” He briefly wiggled out from underneath Felix, turning to root through their bedside table. His ass was right there, pretty and freckled, and Felix couldn’t help himself. He gave it a squeeze and a little slap, making his husband jolt in surprise and then begin to laugh. “Felix! Damn, you’re really wound up, huh?” He smirked over his shoulder before turning and sitting back down, glass vial of clear oil in hand. And then he seemed to soften, reaching to tuck a stray strand of Felix’s hair behind his ear with a free hand. “It’s really because of me?”

Felix turned his head to kiss Sylvain’s wrist. “Yes,” he replied. “I love you like this. I’ve always loved you, but… I really like this.”

Sylvain positively beamed.

Felix took the oil from Sylvain and unscrewed the cap, climbing back into his lap before pouring a generous amount into one palm. He reached for Sylvain’s cock once more, finding that stroking it was, in fact, easier with less friction. He could tell by the way Sylvain’s hips twitched that he liked it, too. 

“Hah… That’s good,” Sylvain panted, staring down at the way Felix’s thin, calloused fingers worked his cock. Felix knew he loved the show. “But… what about you?”

Felix’s cock was indeed hard and flushed from neglect, but Sylvain was his main focus. “I’m fine. This is about you.”

Sylvain shook his head, pulling Felix’s hand from his dick to slick up his own hand with the excess oil. He then reached for Felix’s cock, giving it a few much-needed pumps that left Felix’s head spinning, and then brought their dicks flush against each other in the palm of his hand. “There we go,” Sylvain hummed satisfactorily. “How’s that feel, love?”

Felix nodded, biting down on his lip. Sylvain’s big, calloused hand around his cock was like a dream. “Good,” he managed tightly, rolling his hips experimentally in Sylvain’s grasp. “More…”

“I can do more,” Sylvain replied wryly before beginning to stroke them in tandem. Soon, the room was filled with the slick sound of Sylvain’s hand against their cocks and the staccato rhythm of their breath. Sylvain began to whisper sweet nothings to him, and Felix cursed softly between quiet gasps. Sylvain had always been more vocal, not that Felix minded. The dark haired man leaned forward to pepper Sylvain’s neck with kisses, nipping gently at the soft skin before sucking marks into the flesh. He loved seeing his handiwork in the morning knowing that he’d claimed Sylvain. That Sylvain was  _ his _ . 

His hands wandered down to Sylvain’s chest, and he heard his husband’s breath hitch as his thumbs grazed his nipples. He rolled them under each thumb, kneading at the soft layer of chub there, and Sylvain began to whine.

“Felix,” he whimpered, “oh, fuck…” Sylvain’s words went straight to Felix’s dick, sending a feeling like lightning jolting down his spine. 

“So hot… so handsome… so beautiful…  _ Goddess _ , you feel good under my hands,” Felix babbled, his hips beginning to pick up a rhythm and fuck into Sylvain’s grip. Sylvain’s motions were becoming sloppy, a telltale sign that he was close. “Come on, Sylvain…  _ Fuck _ , you’re perfect…  _ mmh,  _ I’m close…”

“Me too,” Sylvain gasped, “Felix… Fe, oh, fuck, I love you,” he whimpered, “I love you, I love you… Feels so good… I-I…  _ Felix..!” _

Sylvain tensed beneath him as he came undone, thick white ropes of cum painting his belly, his hand, and Felix’s own stomach white. The way he shuddered against Felix, moaning out his name so wantonly, made Felix tumble straight after him, biting down on the soft junction between Sylvain’s neck and shoulder as he did. They both panted in each other’s embrace, winding down from the orgasmic high in the comforting presence of each other’s body.

“I think I forgot how to breathe for a minute there,” Sylvain mumbled blearily, a lazy grin forming on his face. “That was… wow.”

“Mhm,” Felix said weakly, his forehead pressed to Sylvain’s shoulder. He slowly picked himself up, staring between them at the mess they made. If he hadn’t just cum, it might have made his cock stir with interest. “Ugh. We have to take a bath now. I can’t move.”

“I’ll carry you,” Sylvain offered proudly, and Felix couldn’t help but crack a tiny smile. He then looked between them as well, grinning rather sheepishly. “Oops. I mean… you can’t blame me. That was  _ hot _ , Felix. Since when did you learn dirty talk?”

“I’ve done it before,” Felix huffed indignantly. 

“I know, but this? This was different.”

Felix shrugged, gaze dancing away. “The passion was different here, I guess. I don’t know. I wanted you to know that I love you.” Sylvain’s grin only widened, his eyes softening. Felix scowled. “Don’t get too sappy on me or I’ll be mopping you up from the floor.”

“Aww… I guess we have enough to mop up as it is,” Sylvain laughed. “C’mon. I’ll draw us a bath.” He took Felix’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers together and untangling their limbs to stand and help Felix from the bed. Felix enjoyed the view while he coerced his limbs into working. 

“I think we should do round two in the morning.”

Sylvain’s pretty brown eyes blew wide once more before he began to laugh— a real belly laugh.


End file.
